


Because We're Soulmates

by fairytalesandfolklore



Series: The Good Place [4]
Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 01:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytalesandfolklore/pseuds/fairytalesandfolklore
Summary: "We're in love, and love is stronger than anything you can throw at us. No matter what, we will find each other, and we will help each other, because we're soulmates."
Relationships: Chidi Anagonye & Eleanor Shellstrop, Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop
Series: The Good Place [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577470
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85
Collections: The Good Places





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction inspired by _The Good Place_. Respective concepts, characters, and settings from the original source content belong to their creator(s). No copyright infringement is intended.  
>   
>  **Author's Note #1: whovianmuse → fairytalesandfolklore**  
>   
>  **Author’s Note #2:** So I literally started planning this fic the night the S3 finale aired, but then time kind of got away from me, and now I'm just hoping to get it finished and posted before the S4 finale airs in January. It started out as a prediction fic for the final season, and ended up becoming a half canon-compliant // half canon-divergent plot, with dialogue incorporated from Season 03 x Episode 07: The Worst Possible Use Of Free Will, Season 03 x Episode 12: Pandemonium, Season 04 x Episode 08: The Funeral To End All Funerals, and Season 04 x Episode 09: The Answer.  
>   
> Also, I guess I got a little carried away with my headcanon that one of Chidi and Eleanor's favorite pastimes is stargazing and coming up with theories about life on other planets. I never thought I'd be up at 3AM researching [Jupiter's moons](https://solarsystem.nasa.gov/moons/jupiter-moons/overview/?page=0&per_page=40&order=name+asc&search=&placeholder=Enter+moon+name&condition_1=9%3Aparent_id&condition_2=moon%3Abody_type%3Ailike), but here we are.  
>   
> P.S. I'd like to thank my friend [soulfulsam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulfulsam) for letting me borrow her headcanon that Michael would do everything in his power to sabotage Chidi and Simone getting together, because he ships Chidi x Eleanor so much.

**• • •**

**Part One**

**• • •**

Honestly, it's better this way. If Michael hadn't spiraled, and Eleanor hadn't been quick on her feet and assumed the role of the Architect, then she wouldn't have all of this extra _stuff_ to do to keep her mind off of things. 

Keeping Michael from having yet another existential crisis. 

Catering to the needs and whims of three new souls.

Stepping in whenever the Bad Place demons interfere. 

Making sure none of the Janet-Babies malfunction and ruin the experiment. 

Making sure _Derek_ doesn't keep reappearing at random intervals sipping an all-olive martini and ruin the experiment. 

Talking Tahani out of plotting Tabloid John's demise by reminding her that they're all in the afterlife and he (probably) can't die twice. 

Trying to keep _herself_ in check so she doesn't murder Brent, because _again_ , they're already dead, which means the arrogant bastard _probably_ can't die twice, so there's no point in trying. (And anyway, she'd probably end up losing, like, a million Good Place points. But hey, a girl can dream, right?)

So yeah, it's a _lot_ of work. And Eleanor is honestly grateful for it. Because if she wasn't running around like a maniac 24/7 dealing with all of this nonsensical _bullshirt_ , then she'd have all the time in the world to think about—

"Chidi!" Simone calls cheerfully from across the sun-kissed cobbled street, making her way over to a table in the middle of a cozy café with outdoor seating. Chidi immediately drops the book he'd been reading ( _What We Owe To Each Other_ , Eleanor takes note, and a brief smile flashes across her face) and rises to meet her.

Today officially marks six months since Eleanor told Chidi that Simone is his soulmate, and things are…fine. Honestly. Everything is _fine_. She's happy for them. Seeing the pair of them together absolutely _doesn't_ make her want to curl up into a ball, shotgun cheese whiz, and cry.

Nope. 

All good here.

Because she's over it. She is _so totally over it_. Chidi has clearly moved on (not that he even knows there was ever anything _to_ move on _from,_ but whatever) and Eleanor is moving on right along with him. She's running a forking _afterlife neighborhood_ , after all. She is totally _winning_ this break-up. 

Granted, it's not exactly a _break-up_ in the strictest sense of the word, because _technically_ , neither of them actually _wanted_ to break up. And anyway, Chidi made a promise to her that they'll always find each other, that time means nothing, _Jeremy Bearimy, baby,_ and someday this will all be over, and then it'll be just the two of them chilling in the dot of the _i_ forever, and—

Chidi looks up suddenly, his eyes locking onto Eleanor's from across the crowded square. He tilts his head to the side, fixing her with a curious frown. Eleanor feels a prickle of heat rise in her cheeks. _Motherforking shirtballs_ , she's been caught staring again. Feigning a friendly smile and a casual wave, Eleanor quickly dips behind a pillar, beating a hasty retreat along a well-worn path on the outskirts of the neighborhood in the middle-of-nowhere Medium Place: Mindy's St. Claire's house.

Eleanor spends most of her time at Mindy's these days. It's kind of become her go-to whenever the gang needs a place to meet up and figure out a solution to the neighborhood's latest problem. Or whenever she needs a break from all the fake smiling and pretending she's got her shit together, because grabbing a lukewarm beer out of the fridge and screaming into a decorative pillow is just as good a method of self-care as any, right? In any case, it's one of the few places in this neighborhood that doesn't completely bum her out. At least, as long as she steers clear of the guest bedroom where she and Chidi first—

_Anyway_. 

It's not exactly _ideal_ , but it's a damn sight better than her stupid clown house. After the promise of a live-in boyfriend in a home she begrudgingly grew to love only _because_ of the company it kept, Eleanor just can't bring herself to return there, night after night, trailing her fingertips through thick layers of chalk dust settled into the grooves of his old blackboard. 

Eyes roving over the ghost of a space where leather-bound spines of long-forgotten novels used to line her bookshelves in an infuriating, overly-organized system that only Chidi could understand.

Closing her eyes against a fresh wave of tears as short bursts of laughter echo through her memory, at war with the deafening silence that rings through the darkened living room. 

Wrapped in one of the few button-down shirts or turtleneck sweaters of his that Janet had forgotten to transfer over to his new apartment, only to wake from a fitful sleep to find that Chidi's side of the bed is still cold. 

That this is all still happening.

That Chidi's memory wipe hadn't been just another bad dream. 

So yeah, that place doesn't exactly feel like _home_ anymore. Not without Chidi. And sometimes, some nights, ( _most nights,_ if she's being honest,) Eleanor just can't bring herself to go back. 

There's too many memories attached to that place. 

Literally _too many_. Over 300 years' worth. 

And Chidi doesn't remember a single second.

**• • •**

She used to think that maybe soulmates really do exist, and that maybe, Chidi was hers. How else had they managed to keep finding one another, falling in love, helping one another grow and learn and become better people, over and over again, across a multitude of different timelines and reboots? It _had_ to be fate. It had to be… _something._ It was the kind of love story she'd always dreamed of having, (not that she would ever, _ever_ admit it) one that transcended life and death and found a way, against all odds, in a world that was constantly cheering for its demise.

But as she watches, from afar, as Chidi and Simone find their way to one another, talking late into the night, laughter ringing in the air, flirtatious smiles exchanged from across a charming little banquet at a romantic Parisian café under the glow of the golden moon and silver stars, Eleanor starts to think that maybe she'd just been fooling herself. That she and Chidi were just a fluke. That Chidi and _Simone_ are the ones who truly belong together.

"Maybe you were right," she whispers softly, leaning her head on Michael's shoulder as the pair of them sit side by side on a park bench overlooking the lake. "Maybe it _was_ stupid to believe that soulmates really do exist."

Michael stiffens, as he usually does whenever he's reminded of the kind of demon he used to be.

"I honestly couldn't tell you one way or the other," he says around a heavy sigh. "I don't actually know if soulmates exist, and I could never get a straight answer out of Janet every time I've ever tried to ask. All I know is that it's not stupid to want to believe in something. _Especially_ when it comes to you and Chidi. And I like to think that everything that's meant to be has a way of working out, in the end."

Eleanor's lips twitch into a smile.

"When did you become such a sentimental old fool?" she teases, hastily swiping at the corners of her eyes.

"Call it a side effect of spending too much time around humans," Michael laughs. "And again, my offer still stands—"

"Do _not_ try to break up Simone and Chidi," Eleanor warns with a watery chuckle. "Come on, man. We've been over this."

In the beginning, it was difficult to tell who was more upset over the split: Eleanor or Michael. Reeling from the guilt that his breakdown had, at least _partially_ , caused the demise of his favorite relationship and cost two of his dearest friends their happiness, Michael had tried his damnedest to sabotage any chance of Chidi and Simone getting together, from accidental spills of the darkest red wine, to inclement weather pouring out of the sky at random, to dropping in unannounced as the self-imposed third wheel and overstaying his welcome with all manner of awkward conversation topics. As soon as Eleanor had caught wind of what he was doing, she put a stop to it.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, bud. But this is just how it's gotta be," she says, just as much a reminder for him as it is for herself. "As much as it kills me to see the two of them together, we've got to let this play out. Let the cards fall where they may. Whatever happens, happens. Because ultimately, all that matters is the experiment. All that matters is getting this right, proving to the Judge that humans _can_ get better, and that this flawed point system they've got going on needs a major revamp."

"As always, you're right," Michael admits begrudgingly, heaving a frustrated sigh. "I'm just sorry it has to be this way."

"I am, too," she says, swallowing against a lump lodged at the base of her throat. "But honestly, when it really comes down to it, all I want is for Chidi to be happy. And if Simone makes him happy, then we can't stand in the way of them being together."

A bittersweet laugh escapes, and the knot in her throat lessens, if only slightly, at the thought of how proud Chidi would be if he could see her now. How far she's come. How much better of a person she's grown into. How much she's willing to sacrifice just to ensure they all make it out of here unscathed. 

It's a far cry from the kind of person she used to be back on Earth. Selfless. Vulnerable. Brave. Willing to let herself _feel_. To take those feelings and express them in a healthy way. To stand and fight, rather than run away or bury her head in the sand. To do the right thing, even if it means she gets the short end of the deal. As much as it hurts, she wouldn't have it any other way.

**• • •**

Every day, Eleanor relives that highlight reel that Michael had shown the two of them, just moments before Chidi's memory had been erased. 

All the time they'd spent learning from one another. Becoming better versions of themselves. Growing so close and so in sync that they even started anticipating each other's needs without being asked. 

All the times they'd ever fought and made up, always always _always_ coming back in a moment of clarity to talk it all out. Deciding that _this_ , whatever it was that they had between them, was more important than a silly disagreement. That they could overcome anything.

All the times he'd ever wrapped his arms around her and held her close as they snuggled up together on the couch, sharing movie nights and popcorn shrimp. Living in domestic bliss as they cooked dinner together every night. Stealing kisses on their way out the door. 

Afternoon dates walking hand in hand down bright, sunny streets, sharing bites of each other's frozen yogurt, kissing chocolate sauce and whipped cream off the tips of each other's noses. 

Adrift on a quaint little boat in the middle of a crystal-clear lake with the tranquil backdrop of lush evergreens and misty mountains.

Sprawled out on a plushy blanket underneath an endless starry night, cuddled up against his side as he'd regaled her with star facts and whimsical fairy tales about what life might be like on other planets, fingertips tracing constellations in the freckles that dapple her skin.

Romantic picnics in the park, sun shining overhead like the perfect replica of a warm summer's day, before getting caught in an impromptu rainstorm, and choosing to make the best of it, to see it not as an afternoon ruined, but as a chance to make their date even more exciting. Laughing and smiling and slow dancing to music of their own creation in the eye of the storm as the rain swirled all around them and soaked through their clothes.

She wonders, idly, if he ever remembers them. Catches glimpses of those long-forgotten memories in his dreams. And maybe, just maybe, wishes that they were real. Wishes that he could go back in time and relive them all over again, just to have another moment with her.

Every night, she replays everything he'd said to her in those quiet moments in the aftermath of Michael's memory movie reel, a bittersweet, hopeful smile set into the curves of his lips.

_Time means nothing. Jeremy Bearimy, baby. We'll just get through this. And then you and I can chill out in the dot of the i forever._

_We've found each other hundreds of times before. We can do it again,_ she'd said, and in that moment, she had truly believed it.

Sometimes, in those quiet moments, when she can't seem to fall asleep in the too-big bed of her stupid clown house, or on the rough, springy pull-out couch in Mindy's living room, Eleanor ventures out into the night. Strolling the streets of the neighborhood, delighting in the rare moment of peace and quiet all to herself. Reminiscing as she replays 300 years' and 800 reboots' worth of memories of their time together, letting her mind wander to all manner of what-ifs and wonderful impossibilities.

_And maybe_ , she muses, _when all of this is finally over,_ _we will_.


	2. Part Two

**• • •**

**Part Two**

**• • •**

Despite a somewhat tumultuous start, Chidi finds it rather easy to strike up a relationship with Simone. It's actually crazy that they never managed to meet back on Earth, given that they'd both worked for the same university around the same time. It must be a twist of fate. Confirmed, in fact, by the Architect herself. Simone is his _soulmate_. How quaint! 

As soon as the phrase "soulmate" leaves Eleanor's lips, Chidi feels the familiar pang of a stomach ache, and he's hit with a curious burst of wistful longing, a bone-deep sadness he can't quite seem to shake, and an air of hopefulness that makes his entire body feel like it's buzzing with electricity. Which is… _probably_ normal. 

(So, okay, maybe the whole _wistful longing and bone-deep sadness_ thing is a little bit of a weird gut reaction, but one could probably chalk it up to, perhaps, a sense of regret that they never got to meet and spend time with their soulmate back on Earth. Much like older couples who wish they'd met when they were younger, so they could have spent more of their lives together. Yes, that makes sense.) 

This is probably _exactly_ how you're supposed to feel when you finally discover who your soulmate is. And sure enough, when Chidi meets Eleanor's eyes, he feels inexplicably _happy_.

This is good. This is a good thing. It's a… _good_ stomach ache? He's not entirely certain how that makes even the slightest bit of sense, but, well, Chidi _trusts_ Eleanor. Really, truly trusts her. Something about her makes him feel at peace, like coming home after a long journey. So he'll take her word for it, and trust that this is a good thing. That Simone is his soulmate. That they'll make each other happy.

At first, it's absolutely wonderful. They stay up all night talking and laughing, going out to dinner at charming little restaurants and cafés, basking in the sunlight as they enjoy lovely picnics in the park. They do research together and share their findings, musing over all the ways their two fields of study overlap and intertwine, a marriage of neuroscience and philosophy, of mind and morals.

It's perfect…or at least, it's very _nearly_ perfect _._

Chidi likes Simone. Truly, he does. She's brilliant, and she's witty, and she's kindhearted, and she's beautiful, inside and out. But there are…not _flaws_ , he wouldn't call them _flaws,_ just…subtle differences between their personalities and core beliefs that started as a minor trickle in the cracks of their foundation and quickly became a torrential downpour.

So, you know. No biggie.

It's just that, sometimes, Simone is a bit too… _technical_. Quick to judge and slow to forgive. Immovably rooted in logic and fact, relying solely on her own experiences, on tried and true data, trusting only what's right in front of her, only that which is tangible and can be concretely proven. She's not exactly one for abstract thinking, doesn't really care for dreaming up whimsical what-ifs and fanciful impossibilities. 

Which is okay, really. Those aren't inherently _bad_ qualities, they just don't exactly line up with his own. That is to to say, not _anymore_. 

For example, Simone doesn't believe in the concept of soulmates. Even laughs at him when he brings it up over breakfast one morning. And that's _fine_. It's totally fine. He knows she's not being intentionally hurtful or dismissive, lightheartedly teasing him over, _admittedly_ , quite a nonsensical notion. (His heart doesn't shatter into a million pieces or anything. He's _fine_.) 

But, mystical afterlife destiny hokum aside, there's still the issue of the very distinct divide in their core beliefs. Chidi has always strived to uphold a strong ethical and moral code, to treat people with kindness and respect, to do his utmost to help them, no matter what, whenever they're in need (even if, perhaps, they're not the most upstanding people.) 

Simone, on the other hand, believes that this way of thinking is selfless to a fault, almost to the point of being naïve. She simply doesn't see the point in helping people who don't _deserve_ it. For example, she wouldn't dare risk her life for someone unless she was absolutely certain that they would do the same if the situation were reversed. With Simone, first impressions are everlasting, and she'd be hard-pressed to believe that a person is capable of changing for the better after proving to be problematic time and time again. 

And as much as Chidi understands and respects her position, it's just not how he functions. Chidi likes to believe that there's always a sliver of hope, that ethics can be taught, that people can change, and that good behavior is simply a matter of practicing until it becomes habit. Whereas Simone would rather focus on things she deems a _worthwhile_ use of her time and energy. 

Simone likes to tease Chidi, calling him _a walking contradiction of anxiety and optimism_ because honestly, what kind of sane person simultaneously strives to believe the best in people, but is also terrified of absolutely everything? She jokes, and she teases, and she offers him warm, playful smiles as a balm to soothe his frazzled spirit, but underneath it all, Chidi is fairly certain that he secretly drives her insane. 

He can see it in the crease of her brow and the hard set of her lips every time she watches him struggle to make a decision over the simplest of things, wasting precious hours of their time and causing them to miss out on fun neighborhood activities. 

He can see it in the way the sparkle in her eyes flickers and fades like dying candlelight every time she gets excited about embarking on some grand new adventure she'd always wanted to experience back on Earth, but never had the time or the ability to do so (skydiving, snorkeling with tropical fish, rock climbing, skiing through snow-swept mountains) only to be met with a wide-eyed look of horror from her supposed _soulmate_ , working himself up to a panic and talking himself in circles about all the potential risks and dangers, even though, _hello_ , they're in _heaven_ and they're already _dead_. 

After a handful of half-hearted attempts to get him to tag along with her, Simone had given it up as a bad job, and simply gone out to enjoy these activities on her own, content to leave Chidi behind in his quiet little study, surrounded by mountains of dusty old books. 

Never changing. 

Never evolving. 

No challenges. 

No surprises. 

Nothing to keep him on his toes.

Every little detail automatically decided _for_ him.

Which is exactly what he had _thought_ that he liked.

Thought that he wanted. 

Thought that he _needed_.

Until, of course, he _didn't_.

Chidi can't quite explain it, but something about this place feels _wrong_. 

It's everything he's ever wanted, only a little bit _ruined_.

For instance, the tea he brews always tastes a little watered down, like the second pour after the initial steep, and it's always lukewarm, even when it's straight from the stovetop to the kettle to the teacup. 

The food is always just a little bit too dry, the frozen yogurt just a little bit too soupy, melting all over his hands before he's even taken his first bite, and all the coffee comes in those little pods. He nearly _always_ has a stomach ache.

Sure, he can summon any book at will like Thor's hammer…but they usually end up bashing him in the head at full speed and knocking him out. 

And sure, every detail of his apartment, from the muted earthy greens and warm golden yellows, to the pristine bookshelves and well-worn faux leather armchairs, _feels_ like it's been plucked straight from out of his home décor Pinterest board…but the empty space fills him with an intense loneliness, even when the room is filled with Simone and all of their friends.

His soulmate is this wonderful, bright, vibrant force of a person, matching his love of academia and thirst for knowledge…but they don't see eye to eye on such fundamental things. They're perfectly suited to one another…on _paper_ , perhaps, but not in practice.

It's all a little too _perfect_ , and yet, devastatingly _imperfect._

He doesn't know why, but he feels _restless_. Like something is _missing_. A void in his heart that he can't quite seem to fill. 

He doesn't feel challenged, doesn't feel like he's making any kind of progress, moving forward, or changing for the better. He feels _stagnant._ Frozen. Like he's standing still, rooted to the spot, while the rest of the world flourishes all around him.

He's in _heaven_. He should be _happy._ But he's _not._ And the fact that he's not happy in _paradise_ is driving him up a wall.

**• • •**

The Era Of Restlessness, as Chidi calls it, ramps up to an all-time high around the six month mark. Granted, it could have been earlier, could have been later. It's so hard to keep track of time when you're in the afterlife, after all. Sometimes, Chidi could swear it's not even linear, but more like this big swirl of events, like loops and dotted i's in a signature. 

Crazy, right? 

Anyway. 

It's around that time that he starts having trouble sleeping, all of those imperfect little details of his time in the afterlife prickling at the back of his mind like nettles, planting seeds of doubt feeding those all-consuming feelings of restlessness and emptiness rattling around inside his head. It's absolutely _maddening_ , and nothing he does in an attempt to soothe it seems to work in his favor.

After nearly a fortnight of tossing and turning, glaring at the alarm clock on his bedside table, tired eyes tracing patterns in the cracks and grooves of the textured paint on his ceiling, Chidi makes the choice to get up and _do_ something about it. 

It's like there's this invisible string tugging him toward the door, out into the endless expanse of the neighborhood after hours, but instead of his usual apprehension about the idea of exploring unknown geography in the dark, Chidi feels almost _giddy_ at the prospect of trying something new. So he sets out into the night, charting a course for his favorite stargazing spot at the park, hoping that the crisp night air will help clear his mind. 

He doesn't expect anyone else to be awake at this hour. Figures they're all sound asleep, snuggled up in their perfect, cozy beds in their perfect, cozy homes, not a care in the world to keep their minds buzzing well past midnight. But then, the Architect of the neighborhood isn't just _anyone_ , is she? 

As he's strolling down the docks by the lake, far too caught up in the struggle of trying to decide which jaunty tune he should whistle aloud (or hum, he still hasn't decided) he quite literally _collides_ into her, eliciting a terrified shriek and a collection of half-censored expletives, and before he knows it, Chidi is thrashing around in the shallow end of the lake.

Half an hour later, Eleanor is _still_ an apologetic mess, wrapping a thick, plush blanket that feels like it's been pulled straight from the dryer around his shoulders, rattling off a never-ending list of comfort food and hot drinks she could magic into existence as a way to make it up to him. 

In the battle of apologies, Chidi is more than a well-matched opponent, assuring her that the fault is entirely his, that she simply reacted out of instinct, and he truly hadn't meant to startle her, politely declining her offers, insisting he'd filled up on maafe at dinner. 

In the end, Chidi surrenders at the sight of two steaming mugs of hot cocoa overflowing with mini marshmallows, surprising himself when he wholeheartedly accepts Eleanor's handful of popcorn shrimp and thoroughly enjoys every bite, full to the point of painful groaning as the two of them swap spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream melting into a mountain of molten fudge brownies.

But the most unexpected thing of all is the sight of the sunrise, brushstrokes of blood orange, grapefruit, and gold peeking through the treetops, tumbling over the mountainside, dancing in the delicate waves of Eleanor's hair as she sits beside him on a bench overlooking the lake, coupled with the realization that he'd spent the entire night in her company, talking and laughing and reminiscing about all the things he'd hated and loved about life on Earth, never once sparing a thought to all of the pent-up restlessness that had been plaguing him for what felt like an eternity.

**• • •**

He'd never intended to make it a habit. Certainly, it's a rather strange phenomena, how often their paths seem to cross for these impromptu midnight meetings. Stranger still is the fact that it's _always_ perfect timing, seemingly whenever Chidi finds himself most in need of a confidant. And talking with Eleanor, he finds, is unexpectedly _wonderful_. A perfect blend of comfort and familiarity, but with an enigmatic edge of excitement that keeps him on his toes from midnight to sunrise. 

It's enthralling, the way they can talk for hours on end about anything and everything. The way she speaks to him with blunt honesty and bold statements he'd never expected to hear from a divine, celestial being. 

The way she holds her own in an argument, passionately debating him into the ground with counterpoints he'd never even dreamed of, but never in a way that makes him feel foolish or judged. 

The way she makes his head spin, gets under his skin in the best possible way, and makes him tick, makes him think, makes him question everything he ever thought he knew, chiseling brand new grooves into all the things he'd always thought were set in stone.

It's not long before he finds himself growing impatient for nightfall, face aching from an all-day smile at the memory of something she'd said the night before, heart thrumming in his chest as he locks the door to his apartment and sets off in the direction of their favorite café, breath held aloft as he strolls down crystal-flecked cobbled streets, hoping against hope that tonight will be the night he'll find her sitting cross-legged in a chair tilted back at a dangerous angle at their usual table, sneakers kicked off to the side, brow furrowed in concentration, nose-deep in one of the books they'd traded the last time they'd met.


	3. Part Three

**• • •**

**Part Three**

**• • •**

"It's an impossible decision," Chidi remarks as the pair of them lay side by side on a plush checkered blanket underneath an inky black canvas bursting with silver stars. "I mean, how do you even _begin_ to choose your favorite among seventy-nine Jovian moons? This is, by far, the cruelest round of _Would You Rather_ that you have ever proposed, Eleanor."

"Worse than the time I made you choose between Snickers and Milky Way?" Eleanor teases around an impish grin. "Come on, man, it's not like I've stuck you in the middle of the Trolley Problem."

"Fair enough," Chidi concedes, muscles aching from the wide grin that had, over the past few months, become something of a permanent fixture. With a jolt, Chidi realizes that at this time tomorrow, it will officially have been one full year since he'd arrived in the afterlife. Strange how time moves here, in both a blink and an eon, ephemeral and eternal all at once.

"Personally, I like Callisto the best," Eleanor says with a wry smile. "Mostly because it sounds like Calypso, who was a total badass in _Pirates Of The Caribbean_."

Chidi barks out a laugh, closing his eyes and shaking his head from side to side. Scowling, Eleanor pokes him none too gently in the ribs, which only makes him laugh harder.

"What?" she whines, mock-offended. "That's a good reason."

"I'm not making fun of you, I swear," Chidi says, struggling to stifle his laughter as he rolls over onto his side, head propped up on his elbow. "It's just…sometimes you say things, and I…I'm reminded of—"

He pauses, searching for the right words as a collection of images, distorted and blurred, flash across his mind. The faint outline of a silhouette, shrouded in hues of blush and gold. The distant sounds of laughter and the roar of a train chugging along a track. It's there, and then, all at once, it isn't.

"Sorry, it's just…sometimes you just seem so intrinsically _human_ that I forget you're actually… _not_. And it's…forgive me for thinking so, but I find it incredibly charming."

For the barest hint of a second, Eleanor's eyes grow wide, but it's gone before Chidi can convince himself he'd actually seen it, replaced with a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, well, you know," Eleanor says with a lighthearted chuckle and a casual wave of her hand. "You spend so much time around humans, I guess eventually you start acting like one."

Chidi pauses, not quite certain what to say. Not for the first time, he feels like he's missing something, something _vital_. It's like he's got all the pieces, but he can't quite seem to remember where he'd mislaid them in order to put them all together. Sometimes, Eleanor feels like the most complicated puzzle of them all. Every time he thinks he's got her figured, she throws him another curveball.

"Of course," he says after a moment. "I suppose that makes sense."

"Still, though," he presses on, rolling over onto his back and turning his attention toward the night sky, determined to keep the conversation going. "How do I choose? I mean, even if you narrow it down to the obvious four, it's still a choice between Europa, the ice moon, or Io, the active volcano moon, and then there's Ganymede and Callisto, both of which are—"

"…bigger than some of the planets in our solar system, and rumored to have an underground ocean," Eleanor chimes in.

"Yes," Chidi breathes, choking on the rest of his words as he whips around to face her. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

And she had. Everything he was about to say, to a _t_. But it's more than that. There's something _very_ curious about the way she'd matched him word for word, mirroring his mannerisms with perfect precision, every tremor, every cadence, every pause for breath, like this wasn't the first time she'd heard him say all of this. Something so achingly redolent about the far-off look in her eyes as she'd said it, like she was reliving some long-forgotten memory, reciting lines from her favorite fairy tale.

But that's…no. He's being ridiculous. There he goes, getting carried away with impossible notions and ludicrous theories again.

"I mean, _of course_ you already know that," Chidi sighs around a self-deprecating little chuckle. "You know _everything_. Listen to me, reciting star facts to an all-knowing deity like she doesn't already know everything there is to know about the entire universe."

"Not _everything_ ," Eleanor insists with a modest smile. "I'm not Janet, after all. Honestly, my knowledge doesn't really extend past Earth and humans and the residents of this neighborhood. When it comes to, say, _life on other planets_ , your guess is as good as mine…"

Eleanor tilts her head to the side, a magnificent smile tugging at the corners of her lips, like she _knows_ she's just laid the bait for one of Chidi's all-time favorite creative pastimes. (Even if, _technically,_ he doesn't actually remember just how much he loves it.)

"And besides," she says with a dulcet smile. "I like listening to you talk."

And that's…well, for someone who spent the majority of his life getting teased and chastised for long-winded, incoherent, contradictory circular rambling, to hear her say that with such genuine conviction is…well, it's…

For once, Chidi simply doesn't have the words. 

But it's okay, because Eleanor does, diving straight into a detailed rendering of a fictitious ocean world in a galaxy far, far away. One that sounds so familiar, Chidi could almost swear he'd seen it once in a dream. In no time flat, they're off, debating the finer details of aquatic alien life, down to how many rows of teeth the biggest shark-like creature could realistically fit inside its mouth, and what color scales the merfolk of this world might have, depending on whether they live closer to the surface or dwell in the darker depths of the sea.

Eleanor's eyes light up in wonder as Chidi gestures wildly, the sky above them his canvas as he swirls his fingertips in a complicated pattern of curves and spirals, painting invisible portraits of bioluminescent flora and fauna on some distant garden moon. As the hours tick by, the two of them collapse into a fit of giggles, laughing until they can hardly breathe as they hold a competition to see who can come up with the best and worst names for fictional planets and alien creatures.

There's something oddly familiar and comforting about it, sharing wacky ideas and theories with Eleanor, the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears, breathing in the scent of wildflowers and lakeshore, fingertips threading through thick tufts of dew-soaked grass, the crowns of their heads a mere whisper from one another's as they lay side by side underneath the endless, star-strewn sky.

He chances a glance over at her, drinking in the sight of her, head thrown back in laughter, hair splayed all around her like a suspended waterfall, like she's drifting through space, tangled in the grass and tickling the sides of his face as it brushes up against him.

"You know, I never used to be good at this," he says, his own laughter subsiding and settling into a warm, comfortable glow in the center of his chest. He can't quite explain it, but something about her makes him unravel, makes him want to be candid and vulnerable. 

"Dreaming up far-off magical worlds that may or may not exist somewhere out there in the universe," he clarifies. "But then I met you, and you…you made it _fun_ , imagining all of these different possibilities, not _needing_ to know for certain if any of them are actually real."

"People used to call me the human equivalent of a migraine," he admits with a grimace. "Because I would always poke holes in games like this, trying to fit everything into rigid parameters, pointing out logical fallacies, instead of just taking pleasure in the _experience_ of it. Creative thinking for the sake of pure enjoyment. Dreaming up all manner of wonderful, impossible things." 

Eleanor tilts her head to look at him, the silver glow of the stars dancing in her eyes. A hint of a smile twitches at the corners of her lips, and Chidi finds himself drawn to it, wanting nothing more than to make it bloom.

"These past few months have been…I've really enjoyed spending time with you, Eleanor," he says thoughtfully. "As crazy as it sounds, you make me feel…more _human_. You make me _feel,_ instead of always having to _think_. And I never stopped to realize just how important that is, until I met you."

Chidi stills, his heart skyrocketing into his throat, every nerve ending in his body lighting up like a live wire. For in that moment, Eleanor had reached down between them and laced her fingers with his, giving his palm a gentle three-pulse squeeze. Such a simple, tender thing. Such an innately human thing. Done as if by instinct, out of pure muscle memory, as though they had done it thousands of times before. Without even realizing what he's doing, Chidi squeezes back three times in return. And then something incredible happens.

A burst of images, like scenes from a movie, flash across his mind.

The two of them, laying across a checkered blanket identical the one currently beneath them, sunshine spilling through the leaves in the trees, warming their backs as they split the spines of a couple of books from his cherished collection, laughing and talking and reading passages aloud to one another. 

A sudden onset thunderstorm, pouring down on them in rivulets, soaking through their clothes and the pages of his beloved books. Much to his surprise, he finds he hardly cares, simply making the best of it, laughing and kicking up his feet to the tune of _Singing In The Rain_ , delightfully carefree as he takes her by the hand and leads her in a whimsical waltz.

Just the two of them, lost in their own little world, holding each other close and swaying to the melody of distant thunder and pouring rain. He leans in close, fingers threading through the tendrils of her rain-soaked hair as he gently cups the side of her face, warm breath ghosting over the magnificent smile curved across her lips as he draws her in for a spectacular kiss, and the fire that erupts in his chest is overwhelming, all-consuming. Never before has he felt so warm, so happy, so enthralled, so _alive_.

It's different from some of the dreams he's had before…blurred and faded, like a channel coming in on the wrong frequency. But this…this _vision_ , this daydream, this lucid phantasmagoria, _whatever it is_ , makes him feel like he's actually there, like he's reliving it. It's so real, and so vivid, that he can feel _everything_. Every detail. Every touch. Every drop of rain that falls against his skin. The smell of petrichor as the rain settles into the desert air. The hard line of Eleanor's smile pressed against his lips. The vibrations of her laughter radiating against his chest. 

How freeing it feels simply _being_ with her, acting on desires and impulses he'd been struggling to suppress for _months_. Everything he's ever wanted, but convinced himself he could never have, so intently focused on trying to make things work with his _universe-approved soulmate_ , on simply settling and letting everything be decided _for_ him, that he never took the time to consider what he actually wants, how he actually feels. But in that moment of perfect clarity, he finally _knows_. 

He feels like he could live in that moment forever.

But then it's over, as quickly it had begun. The vision fades, ripping him out of his marvelous reverie, cold hard earth and dew-soaked grass digging into the muscles of his back, grounding him in reality. He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly as an infinite cluster of silver starbursts punctuating an endless sea of black comes hurtling back into focus, the chill of the night air rolling over him like ocean waves.

His hands are cold. With a jolt, Chidi realizes that Eleanor has let go of him, her own hands folded neatly across her torso, seemingly struggling against an urge to fidget, worrying her lower lip, eyes wide like she'd just been caught doing something she knows she's not supposed to. Rosy patches paint the pulse points of her collarbones and the apples of her cheeks, just barely visible in the golden glow of the moon. 

Chidi has no idea how much time passes as they stay like this, unnervingly still, neither of them daring to be the first to speak. And then, without warning, Eleanor springs into a standing position, brushing nonexistent blades of grass from the thighs of her jeans and pointedly avoiding looking anywhere but directly at him.

"Well, it's getting late," she says, an unmistakable note of panic in her voice. Chidi knows that tone well, it's basically his default. "I should probably get going. Lots of…um…lots of _Architect stuff_ to attend to. Goodnight, Chidi."

And before he can summon the nerve to say _something_ , _anything,_ a thousand different questions poised on the tip of his tongue, Eleanor is gone, turning on the spot and disappearing into the darkness, leaving him standing there, positively dumbstruck, heart pounding to the beat of his racing thoughts as he tries to make sense of what had just happened.

All she had done was reach across the space between them and hold his hand. And yet, somehow, it had changed everything.


	4. Part Four

**• • •**

**Part Four**

**• • •**

There's a knock on Eleanor's front door at a quarter to eleven o'clock the following evening. Hastily shoving Mindy's _special edition_ copy of _Cannonball Run 2_ in between her couch cushions, Eleanor springs up from the sofa and rushes to open the door, assuming it's Michael, or Tahani, or even Jason, with yet another report of something in the neighborhood going ass-up in flames. Much to her surprise, the person standing on her doorstep, hand held aloft in a gentle fist, mid-knock, is—

"Chidi!" she says, wincing at the way his name comes out in a breathless, half-shouted whisper, trying desperately to school her features into something cool and casual, because she _totally_ hadn't spent the entire day freaking out over the whole hand-holding incident from the night before.

"I'm sorry," he says in lieu of _hello_ , glasses fogging up from a nervous sweat despite the brisk autumnal weather outside. "I hope you don't mind, but I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you. I know it's rather late in the evening, but I figured maybe it would be alright, considering this is around the time we _usually_ meet. I would have called first, but then I realized that there aren't any phones here, so I asked Janet for the best way to get in contact with you, and she gave me your address!"

All of this comes spilling out of his mouth in a rushed, jumbled mess at varying pitches and volumes, making it clear to Eleanor that Chidi is feeling just as flustered and anxious as she is. Heart hammering in her chest, Eleanor plasters on a polite smile and invites him inside with an overly enthusiastic _make yourself at home!_

As Chidi takes a look around, he can't help but feel like Eleanor's house is bizarrely _familiar_. It fills him with a strange combination of nostalgia, comfort, and distress.

"Your home is… _different_ than what I was expecting," Chidi remarks as he glances around at all the clown paintings. 

So. Many. _Forking_. Clown. Paintings. 

And…one of a shirtless mailman? 

"I didn't know you liked clowns," he says, fixing her with a quizzical sort of look as he pries his eyes away from the trashy erotic calendar, which seems to be permanently stuck on March. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you've told me that you _hate_ clowns, many times, on several different occasions."

In her defense, it's not like Eleanor ever expected Chidi to just _show up at her house_ out of the blue. 

It's fine, though. She can do this. She can improvise. Time to smooth things over.

"So I mean, yeah, I _do_ hate clowns," she says with an attempt at a lighthearted chuckle. "Or at least, I _did_ hate clowns…but they kind of grew on me after a while, because of…uh…the person who _used_ to live here. He…well, he didn't really like clowns, either, but we…ah, you know what? It's a long story. I'm sure you don't want me to bore you with the details."

_Yup. Nailed it._

Except, Chidi actually _does_ want to know. All of it. All the details. Very badly. But he's not here to talk about creepy clown paintings or gratuitously bare-chested postal workers. Granted, he's not exactly getting to _point_ of why he's here, but for some reason, he just can't seem to work up the nerve to come out and say it.

Stalling for time, his eyes rove the landscape of Eleanor's living room, cataloguing every impossibly familiar little detail of the décor, from the eggshell whites, cloudy grays, and muted pastels that paint the walls, to the primitive Icelandic style furniture arranged in a quirky yet classy minimalistic fashion, to the rich mahogany bookcase in the far corner of the room that looks oddly out of place and honestly, more to _his_ taste, to the—

"Cool chalkboard," Chidi says with an air of surprise, wondering how he hadn't immediately noticed the grand blackboard set in the middle of the living room, opposite a charming little white loveseat and a rustic coffee table littered with magazines, sticking out like a sore thumb.

"You know what I always thought would be great?" he says conversationally. "A magic chalkboard that anticipates—"

"…anticipates your lesson flow," Eleanor blurts out with an amused roll of her eyes, like she'd heard him say that exact thing hundreds of times before.

"That's the dream," she says in a playful, sarcastic tone, before catching sight of the bemused expression on Chidi's face, and adding, "…or so I've heard."

Chidi tilts his head to the side, utterly bewildered by the way she'd known _exactly_ what he was going to say before he'd even said it, just as she'd done the night before. There's something very peculiar about the way she's staring at him just now, like a deer caught in headlights. 

Chidi's eyes dart briefly back to the living room. There's a thick layer of dust settled into the grooves of the chalk bed and the slate of the board itself, like it hasn't been used in _at least_ a year. If he takes a few steps closer and squints his eyes, he can _just barely_ make out the shadow of hastily-erased handwriting that looks startlingly close to his own.

"Didn't exactly take you for a chalkboard enthusiast, either," he says, trying very hard not to sound as suspicious as he feels.

"Oh, well… _yeah_. I mean, I'm _not_ ," she backpedals. "It's…it belongs to a friend."

Chidi narrows his eyes, fixing her with an intense, curious gaze. Having spent his entire life on the verge of a constant low-grade panic attack, Chidi has learned to recognize the symptoms for what they are. He's also learned how to suss out whenever someone is trying to put on a brave front, feign confidence, and power through it. _Especially_ when they're so appalling _bad_ at it, like Eleanor seems to be.

Could she be feeling nervous about what happened the night before? Had she, too, seen the surreal visions of the two of them together flash across her mind, just as vividly as he had? Was she, perhaps, feeling foolish or regretful for having reached out and held his hand? Had she done it out of some kind of magical pull, instinct, or desire? Or had it simply been an accident? 

No, it couldn't have been. She'd done this intimate little three-pulse squeeze, as well. You don't just do something so specific like that without realizing you're doing it. Then again, _he_ had when he'd responded in kind. He couldn't help it. It had just felt so _natural_. Like something they'd done hundreds of times before. But what did it mean? Did it even mean _anything_? Was she even _allowed_ to do as she wanted? Was _he_?

He becomes so lost in the deafening grinding of his own thoughts that he doesn't hear her speak at first.

"I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Could you repeat that?"

Eleanor stares at him for a moment, eyebrows arched, features painted with something akin to incredulity.

"Is there…uh…anything I can help you with, Chidi?" she asks, and oh yeah, she _definitely_ sounds annoyed…and maybe, dare he say it…a little defensive? "Or did you come all the way over here to quiz me about clowns and chalkboards?"

"Oh my god. No, of course not. I'm so sorry," Chidi falters, embarrassment washing over him in waves as he starts to fret and wonder if coming over here had been a giant mistake. He'd set a course with the clear-cut intention of talking to her about last night, and all he'd done was show up at her house, uninvited and unannounced, and proceeded to interrogate her about the details of her décor.

A dozen different potential excuses to hightail it out of there sweep across his mind like names in a rolodex. 

_Sorry, I have to—_

_Feed my plants._

_Water my cat._

_No, wait. That can't be right_.

Perhaps he'll just tell her that he isn't feeling well. It's not exactly a lie, after all, seeing as he's nearly _always_ got a stomach ache. Nearly _always_ on the verge of a panic attack. Nearly _always_ kept awake by a constant barrage of _what if_ and _why am I not happy_ , grinding away in the back of his mind like a fork caught in a garbage disposal.

Until, of course, one fateful evening six months prior, when Chidi had spent the entire night from midnight to sunrise in Eleanor's company. He couldn't quite place _how_ or _why_ she had had such a life-changing effect on him. All he knew for certain was that all of that restlessness, that desolate feeling of _emptiness_ gnawing in the pit of his stomach, had utterly disappeared the moment he'd spoken to her. 

Replaced, instead, by the thrill of wandering the neighborhood after hours, night after night, hoping to cross paths with her, and discover more about her. By an exhilarating curiosity to puzzle out the _reason_ for all of these strange and wonderful dreams he's been having, so real and so vivid, like a mosaic of memories from another life. And isn't that exactly _why_ he's here, to find the _answer_?

He thinks of a night under the stars, the way they'd danced in her eyes, the way her laughter had sounded like music, the feel of her hand in his, and he's reminded of the reason he made the choice to come here, the reason why he _needs_ to be here.

"Okay, so. Yeah. So. Here's the thing," he says around a quavering breath. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a _while_ now, but I could never work up the nerve, or find the right words. And I didn't want to make it seem like I'm ungrateful for everything you and Michael and Janet and Tahani and Jas…that is to say, _Jianyu_ …have done for me, because you guys are amazing. Seriously. You're genuinely the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Sounds like you're about to say _but_ ," Eleanor quips, concern bleeding through her carefully crafted lighthearted expression.

"But—" Chidi continues with an assenting nod, eyes fixed to the floorboards as he begins his descent into frantic pacing. "I feel _out of sorts_. This place is a perfect paradise, and yet, I don't feel _happy_. Not _completely_ , anyway. I can't help but feel like there's something missing. Like part of _me_ is missing. There's something about this place that isn't quite right. So, I've given this a lot of thought, and I have to ask…"

Panic floods Eleanor's senses like a dangerous cocktail of fire and ice, a frenzied greatest hits compilation of choice uncensored swear words racing through her mind at the loudest decibel. _This is it_ , she thinks. _This is how the experiment dies. Not with a bang, but with a rousing encore of This Is The Bad Place._

"What if the universe was wrong?" Chidi asks, and Eleanor holds her breath.

But instead, he surprises her by asking—

"What if Simone isn't my soulmate?"

"Oh," Eleanor breathes a sigh of relief that quickly turns into a scoff.

"Trust me, she's your soulmate," she says, injecting, perhaps, a little more venom than she really ought to have into her reply.

Chidi pauses mid-pacing, his eyes growing wide with alarm.

"That!" he says, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "That right there. That hitch in your voice. The hint of something that can only be described as _bitterness_ every time you say the word _soulmate_. What aren't you telling me?"

Eleanor opens her mouth, but all that comes out is a series of high-pitched choking sounds.

"I…wha—…Nothing! I'm not _hiding_ anything!" she shrieks.

"Oh, sure, that's not suspicious _at all_ ," Chidi retorts in a perfect impression of Eleanor's usual brand of sarcasm, eyebrows arched so high, they practically straddle his hairline.

"Look, dude, I don't see the problem," Eleanor scoffs. "You and Simone are _perfect_ for each other."

"Are we, though?" Chidi challenges. "I mean, maybe on _paper_ , but in _practice_ , it's…"

Chidi heaves a heavy sigh and resumes his harried pacing.

"Look, don't get me wrong. Simone is great. She's a brilliant neuroscientist and a wonderful person, and I care about her very much…but I just…I don't think that she's my _soulmate_. When I'm with her, I don't feel like you're _supposed_ to feel when you're in love. In fact, I'm quite certain I've never felt that way about anyone," Chidi pauses and chances a glance over at Eleanor, swallowing against the nervous lump in his throat. "That is…until last night." 

"What are you saying, Chidi?" she asks cautiously, hardly daring to believe it.

"What I'm _trying_ to say…though I'm not exactly going about it in the most _eloquent_ fashion," he sighs, offering her an apologetic smile. "…is that, no matter how much I try to deny it, or talk myself out of it, it appears that I have developed feelings for someone else."

Eleanor's heart skips a beat.

"It took me a long time to figure it out," Chidi explains, tracking a faint trail of tread marks into the hardwood floor from his beleaguered pacing. "Mostly because I was too busy trying to force something that _clearly_ wasn't working for _both_ parties involved."

He gives an agitated little shake of his head, chastising himself for his own stubbornness.

"And it wasn't until last night, when a certain _someone_ reached across the space between us and held my hand, and I saw this…I don't know if it was a vision of the future or the past…but I saw things, and I felt things, and I…I could've sworn I _remembered_ things that I _should not_ have been able to recall with such perfect clarity…and it made me realize something I've been fighting against admitting, all this time," Chidi trails off, gazing into space in a dreamlike trance.

Eleanor opens her mouth, a million different questions poised on the tip of her tongue, all begging to fire off at once, as she tries to make sense of everything he'd just said.

"It was such a small, simple thing," Chidi says fondly, offering Eleanor an affectionate smile. "But somehow, it changed _everything_. And ever since then, I haven't been able to shake the idea that maybe that same _someone_ is my _real_ soulmate."

All of the breath rushes out of Eleanor's lungs. For a moment, she simply stares at him, stunned to silence.

"Me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think _I'm_ your soulmate?"

Chidi's answering smile all but melts her heart.

"Is that really so crazy?" he asks, and the overwhelming warmth and gentleness of his tone makes her feel like she's just downed a mug of hot cocoa.

Even in this timeline, even though he'd had all of his memories of their time together erased, even when she was pretending to be this, for all intents and purposes, _unattainable immortal god_ , Chidi _still_ found his way to her, fell in _love_ with her, thinks that she's his _soulmate_ , even though he'd already been paired up with—

The unwelcome thought creeps up from the back of her mind, dousing that hopeful, happy warmth with ice water.

"What about Simone?" Eleanor asks, fearing the worst. As much as she's been dreaming of this moment every day for the past year, she doesn't want it if it comes at the expense of someone else's happiness. She's not a _homewrecker_.

"Simone and I have agreed to end our relationship," Chidi says matter-of-factly, seemingly unaffected by such a weighted statement.

" _What?_ " Eleanor half-shouts. 

_Is that, like, allowed?_ _Can soulmates just decide to break up and then go about their afterlife like it's no big deal? But then, Chidi and Simone aren't actually soulmates…probably…so, who knows?_

"No need to worry, Simone is perfectly fine," Chidi clarifies, offering Eleanor a small, reassuring smile. "I went over to her apartment this morning with the intention of coming clean about my feelings, and talking things out with her. But Simone is very perceptive. She saw where the conversation was headed before I even opened my mouth, literally breathed a sigh of relief and said, ' _Oh, thank God_.' Turns out, she wasn't happy being with me, either."

"Oh," is all Eleanor can manage. And then, because it's probably the polite thing to do, she adds, "I'm so sorry, Chidi."

"Don't be," Chidi says, waving a dismissive hand. "It was, quite possibly, the healthiest and most amicable breakup I've ever had. Trust me, Simone and I just saved ourselves an eternity of misery. It wouldn't have been fair to either of us to keep the relationship going. I frustrated the hell out of her and held her back from doing all the fun, adventurous things she wanted to do. And she…well…let's just say, Simone deserves better than being stuck with a man who's in love with someone else…"

Momentarily starstruck by the casual ease in which all of these puzzle pieces seemingly fell into place, Eleanor arches her eyebrows and blurts out an affronted, " _Wait, who_?"

Chidi blinks several times in disbelief.

" _Seriously_?" he laughs.

"Oh! Right," Eleanor winces, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Sorry, it's just…it's a lot to take in. I just…I guess I just don't understand. Why _me_?"

_After all, Simone is practically perfect. And Eleanor is just—_

"Honestly, I don't know how to even begin to quantify it," Chidi replies. "This isn't something I can explain away with logic or facts or a well-reasoned argument citing specific examples from a book. I just know what I feel, and what I feel is that _I like you_. I like spending time with you. I like the person I've become _because_ of you. You challenge me, and you humble me, and you excite me, and you keep me on my toes. But it's _more_ than that. When I'm with you, it just feels _right_. Like this is how it was always supposed to be. I've only just met you, but I feel like I've known you my entire life. Isn't that exactly how you're supposed to feel about your soulmate?"

"But I…" Eleanor says softly. "I'm just a girl from Ariz— _oh fork_. I mean…just a regular old immortal being from the Architect…uh…academy? Yeah, that. Because I'm the Architect."

And that's when hits her.

She's the _Architect._

The experiment.

The very _reason_ for Chidi's sacrifice.

The fate of humanity _literally_ depends on Eleanor keeping up this year-long charade, on making sure everything goes according to plan. Though _very much_ welcome _and_ wanted, Chidi confessing his undying love for her and proclaiming her his _soulmate_ wasn't exactly part of the plan. 

_Who knows_ how many points this could cost them? Who knows what kind of damaging effects it could have on Chidi's progress, if the whole complicated mess of the truth were to come out? She can't risk _anything_ potentially messing up the experiment, not now that they're so close to the Judge's ruling. 

She squares her shoulders, schooling her features into impassivity, and says, "People like me, Chidi…we don't get to _have_ soulmates."

Chidi stares at her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, and Eleanor is surprised to find that he looks almost _angry_.

"Well, pardon my language, but that's _bullshirt_ ," he says with uncharacteristic fervor, and Eleanor has to stifle a giggle at how much he sounds like _her_ , only far more polite. 

"Everyone deserves to find love and happiness. Even all-knowing, immortal deities. In fact, _especially_ all-knowing, immortal deities, I would wager. I mean, look at everything you do for us," he argues in her defense. "I spent my whole life in pursuit of absolute moral truth, but _you,_ dedicating your entire existence to guiding humans through the afterlife. It's _amazing_. You're like the perfect paradigm of what absolute goodness should look like."

"Well, that's very kind of you to say, Chidi, but—"

"But at the same time, you're… _imperfect_ , in the best possible way," he continues. "Sometimes, when I'm with you, it doesn't feel like you're… _not a human_ , you know? Everything you do, everything you say, how casual and comfortable and open and honest you can be, you just seem so… _intrinsically human_. Sometimes, it's hard to remember that you're _not_. But really, what difference should that make? Does it really matter what we are? Janet and Jason fell in love, even though Janet isn't human. If _they_ can make it work, why couldn't—"

Oh no.

Oh god.

Oh no oh god oh no, he's just spilled all the secrets he'd promised Jason he would keep. Chidi winces, waiting for the inevitable pandemonium, but what Eleanor says next feels like a bigger blow by far.

"We just…we _can't_ , Chidi. I'm sorry," she sighs, looking for all the world like it's absolutely _killing_ her to say it. 

It's that unmistakable look of pure misery that gives him the nerve to push forward, because it's the same look that's mirrored on his own face, every single morning when he wakes up and feels like there's something _missing_. And he's tired of feeling miserable.

"But _why_?" Chidi challenges, then pauses, trying to walk the razor-thin line between wanting to boldly profess his affections and prove to her that he's willing to fight for her, and not wanting to make her uncomfortable, just in case he's misread the entire situation, and this _isn't_ what she wants.

"I mean, look, if it's because you truly don't feel what I'm feeling, and I've misinterpreted everything, then that's on me," he amends. "I will offer my sincerest apologies, and go about my afterlife, and I'll never bother you or broach the subject again. But if you _do_ feel the same way, and we both end up spending the rest of eternity secretly pining for each other but never working up the nerve to say anything about it, well then…this might as well be the Bad Place."

"Chidi, I…" Eleanor sighs, her expression pained.

"Look, if I'm completely off-base here, please just tell me," he insists. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll never bring it up again, and we can go back to being platonic friends who occasionally cross paths in the middle of the night, sharing delicious food and delightful discourse. Or, if you would prefer, we can stop doing that, too."

"No!" Eleanor practically shouts, a look of panic in her eyes. "I don't want to stop seeing you!"

"Then what _do_ you want?" Chidi asks.

"I…" Eleanor falters, battling back the urge to tell him _everything_ , knowing full well the inevitable ruin it would bring upon them both.

"Look, it doesn't _matter_ what I want, _or_ how I feel," she admits, heaving a despondent sigh. She can't give him what he wants, but she's tired of having to lie to him. So, until the countdown hits zero and the experiment ends…enigmatic, vague half-truths it'll have to be.

"But you _do_ feel _something_ ," he says, and Eleanor's heart clenches at the little sliver of hope that lingers in his tone. 

Chidi takes a tentative step toward her, closing the distance between them. Eleanor's breath catches in the back of her throat, lost for words as she stares into the eyes of the man towering above her. He leans forward, his lips a mere whisper from her own. As if on instinct, Eleanor's eyes flutter closed and she tilts her chin to meet him halfway, just like they always used to do.

It takes every ounce of her remaining willpower to recognize what she's doing, and wrench herself away from him.

"I'm sorry, Chidi, but I _can't_ be your soulmate," she says. "No matter how much I might wish I _could_ be."

Chidi presses his lips into a hard line, staring at her with some indecipherable spark in his eyes.

"Okay, so maybe we're _not_ soulmates. Maybe the concept of soulmates doesn't actually exist," he concedes. "Honestly, it doesn't really matter. What _does_ matter is how we feel, and what we choose to do with those feelings."

"I spent my whole life allowing fear and indecision to control me, to the point of _madness_ and daily mental breakdowns, missing out on all manner of _what-ifs_ and _what-could-have-beens_ , all because I could never commit to a choice," he says, and Eleanor is momentarily stunned by his unexpected candor. 

It's the kind of self-awareness she had learned to expect from a Chidi with all of his memories still intact, a Chidi who had learned from his mistakes and changed for the better. A surge of pride rushes through her at the fact that _this_ version of Chidi had managed to make so much progress in just a year's time.

"For once, I actually know what I want. For once, I'm making the choice to pursue what makes me happy, even though I am absolutely _terrified_ of doing so, because I have no idea if it's the right thing to do, or what the outcome will be. But I'll never know unless I try. So here I am, standing in front of you, working up the nerve to finally tell you how I feel. I know what I want, Eleanor, and what I want is _you_ ," he says softly, his voice as dulcet as caramel wrapped in espresso, and Eleanor could swear she's never heard her name sound so sweet.

She feels dizzy, heady, like she's caught between the realm of waking and dreaming, hardly daring to believe that any of this is actually happening. It's been a whirlwind of an evening, and Eleanor is struggling to keep up. Every detail of what Chidi has confessed finally starts catching up with her, and with a sudden jolt that rips her out of this marvelous wish made real, she realizes—

"Wait…what did you mean before, when you said you can remember things you shouldn't be able to?" she asks, bracing her hands against his shoulders to try and keep herself steady amidst the swirling panic that's just begun to resurface.

To Eleanor's surprise, Chidi's expression shifts from hopeful and adoring to conflicted and embarrassed.

"I know it sounds crazy," he pauses, pursing his lips as he puzzles over how best to explain himself. "And I don't know if it's just the result of an overactive imagination, or some kind of weird side effect of the afterlife that makes wishful thinking come to life in a very real, very intense sort of way, but…sometimes, it's like I can remember all of these little details about you, and about _us_ , that I shouldn't be able to remember."

"It feels like we have all of this history, have known each other for hundreds of years, even though we've only just met," he says thoughtfully. "And I keep having all of these…I don't know if they're dreams or fantasies or memories from another life, but I can picture them all so clearly. Mind you, I couldn't always. But something happened last night when you touched my hand, and now, it's like I can feel _everything…_ every touch, every sound, every smell, every emotion attached to them, crystal clear." 

"What, um," Eleanor swallows thickly, heart thundering against her ribcage in equal measures of apprehension and euphoria. "What _kinds_ of things?"

The answering smile that blooms across Chidi's face is like _actual sunshine_.

"Dancing in the rain with you. Arguing with you inside a weird, minimalist house surrounded by clown paintings, _unnervingly_ reminiscent of the one we're currently standing in, right down to the very last detail. Hiding behind a bar with you while a fight breaks out overhead, and amidst all the chaos, you turn to me and tell me that you think you've fallen in love with me. Lying in bed with you in a strange house out in the middle of nowhere, telling you that I love you, too," he says as recalls each memory with wistful fondness. 

A loose lock of hair slips out of place from behind Eleanor's ear, and Chidi's fingertips twitch at his sides.

"I could almost _swear_ I know exactly how it feels to walk down a sunny lane with you, hand in hand, with nowhere to go and nothing to do but enjoy each other's company, to hold you close and bury my face in your hair."

Daring to be bold, Chidi reaches forward and tucks the wayward lock of hair back behind her ear, reveling in the delicate blush that blossoms under the surface of her skin.

"What your lips feel like pressed against mine," he says, gently grazing his palm down the side of her cheek and watching, with baited breath, as her eyes flutter closed and she leans into his touch. 

"And I don't know if any of it is real or where it all came from, but I _want_ it. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life. And, forgive me if I'm way out of line here, but sometimes it feels like maybe you might want that, too?" Chidi asks, reaching out across the space between them and tentatively offering Eleanor his hand. Caught up in the moment, Eleanor takes an involuntary step forward, fingertips ghosting over the palm of his hand. The way he looks at her with such a yearning conviction makes her heart _sing._

_He wants me._

_He wants us._

_He wants the life we built together, all the things we used to share._

_He wants—_

And all at once, the gravity of his words finally catches up to her, and the wonderful, terrifying impossibility of _what this means_ comes crashing down around her.

Hummingbird heart at a loss for whether to skyrocket into her throat or plummet down into her stomach, Eleanor turns her head to the side, and shouts a half-hysterical, " _Janet!_ "

"Wait, _what_?" Chidi exclaims, indelicately ripped out of the heartfelt moment.

With a melodic _bing_ , Janet pops into existence right in the middle of Eleanor's living room, sporting a cheerful smile.

"How can I help you?" she asks, casting curious glances back and forth between Eleanor and Chidi.

"Could you please get Michael?" Eleanor asks, eyes fixed on Chidi like he's a spider she's just trapped under a cup.

"And, um, also, could I please have a drink with _a lot_ of alcohol in it?" she adds with a sheepish grimace.

"Sure thing," Janet replies, looking thoroughly confused, but deciding it's better not to ask. She'll find out soon enough, anyway.

Janet twists on the spot and disappears, reappearing just seconds later with a wide-eyed, panic-stricken Michael clutching onto her arm.

" _Sweet forking hell_ , the tension in here is _thick_ ," Michael exclaims, wafting his hands through the air. He glances back and forth between Eleanor and Chidi, looking alarmed. 

"What happened?" he asks. "Why is Chidi in your living room so late at night? _Oh no_. Tell me he hasn't figured out that we're actually in the—"

" _Oh my god_. No, you _walnut_!" Eleanor shouts, frantically waving her arms in the air to shush him.

"He remembers," she says. "He remembers _everything_. The memory wipe didn't work. He _remembers_. Oh my god, what do we do? How is this happening? What if it jacks up his final score somehow? It could ruin everything!"

In a perfect imitation of Chidi, Eleanor begins pacing.

"Holy smokes," Michael whispers, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Several minutes pass with Chidi simply standing there, stunned to silence and frozen to the spot, Eleanor tracking scuff marks into the hardwood floor as she paces in a dizzying blur, and Michael raking his hands through his hair, chanting _Jason_ five times to trigger the cheat code and ward off an impending migraine as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Alright," Michael says in a sage and soothing tone. "I think I might know what happened."

In unison, Eleanor and Chidi whip around to face him.

"Eleanor, do you remember that one reboot where you and Chidi came into my office to confront me?" Michael asks, a small, prideful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Do you remember what you said?"

Eleanor blinks several times, trying to coax some manner of coherent thought to the forefront of her mind. After a moment, her eyes widen in surprise.

"We're in love," she recites with perfect clarity. "And love is stronger than anything you can throw at us."

"And no matter what," Chidi chimes in, the words summoned from some shadowed recess at the back of his mind. "We will find each other, and we will help each other, because we're soulmates."

Eleanor simply stares at Chidi, open-mouthed and disbelieving.

"And I blew it off and made fun of you, thinking it was nothing, but it was _everything_ ," Michael says, a full-blown smile erupting across his face. "It was strong enough to break through the walls of a reboot."

"What?" Eleanor asks, incredulous. "How is that even possible?"

"Oh, how do I explain this?" Michael sighs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat and swiveling on the spot. "You see, every time I reboot you guys, I'm not exactly _erasing_ your memories. That is to say, your memories don't just disappear into the void. Think of your brain as a filing system. All I've done is taken your afterlife memories and filed them away in a folder at the back of a cabinet that says _DO NOT OPEN_. So all of your memories are still there, they're just…tucked away, laying dormant in the back of your mind, waiting to be unlocked. Now, typically, the only way of getting them back is for me to actively magically summon them back for you. However, there _is_ one other way to reawaken them…which, before now, I never actually believed was possible."

Eleanor quirks an eyebrow.

"I never considered the possibility that any of you would ever fall in love with one another," Michael continues, pursing his lips. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I just assumed you'd all loathe and torture each other. I never expected you to build such strong positive emotional attachments to one another. But you _did_ , and _apparently_ , that connection that you two share was powerful enough to unlock Chidi's memories."

"So," Eleanor sniffles, tears swimming in her eyes. "So, what…you're saying…you're saying Chidi remembers… _because we're soulmates_? I thought soulmates didn't exist."

"It's like I've said before, _I don't know_ ," Michael sighs. "Personally, I don't think that they do. If soulmates _do_ exist, then they're _made_ , not _found_. People meet, they get a good feeling about each other, and then they get to work building a relationship. Like you and Chidi did, countless times over the span of three hundred years and eight hundred different reboots, even when you had a whole team of demons conspiring against you."

"So maybe you're not _universe-approved soulmates_ chosen by some complicated matchmaking formula…but you still managed to find each other, and help each other, and fall in love with each other, over and over and over again. I'd say that still counts for something," Michael insists, aiming an affectionate smile and a hearty wink at the pair of them.

"Essentially, Eleanor," he says, with a lighthearted sigh. "Chidi remembers because he _loves_ you."

A small, tentative smile curls at the corners of Eleanor's lips, a warm, golden glow blossoming in the center of her chest. Ever so slowly, Eleanor turns to meet Chidi's gaze, and is delighted to see her own emotions reflected in Chidi's answering smile.

"Okay," Chidi says after a moment, shaking his head and turning to face Michael. "I'm _happy_ , but _very_ confused. Could somehow please fill me in on what just happened here?"

"Oh, right," Michael says, stirred from out of his fond reverie at the sight of his favorite couple finally happy and back together…well, _almost_.

"So, Chidi," he says, adopting an air of professionalism. "I'm about to unlock the rest of your memories. This might be a little overwhelming, but, seeing as how you're already dead, it shouldn't have the same hair-frying, teeth-extracting effect it had on Eleanor back on Earth. _So_."

"Wait, _what_?" Chidi exclaims with a frightened frown, but before he can protest or level Michael with a cascade of questions pinging back and forth across his mind, Michael snaps his fingers, and everything goes pleasantly blank. Seconds later, a series of imagines, like slides from a sped-up film, race across his mind with alarming acuity. All at once, the dormant part of Chidi's brain unlocks, and a stream of memories comes flooding back, filling in the remaining pieces of the puzzle his dreams had so cleverly supplied these past few months.

"Oh!" Chidi gasps, struggling to keep up with the sudden influx of vivid, vibrant details pouring into his mind, a cataclysm of emotions battling for dominance as he relives every moment of his afterlife. 

"Eleanor, I'm…we're…you…" he exclaims, his exuberant smile twisting into one of malaise as the last few details fall into place. "Oh, but the experiment! The whole reason I gave up my memories in the first place! What if I—"

"It's alright, Chidi," Michael says, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "We're literally getting evaluated by the Judge any minute now. Not a whole lot of damage you could do at this point, bud."

"Oh," Chidi sighs, wild heart rate steadily slowing to a normal pace. "Well that's…simultaneously terrifying and reassuring."

Chidi turns to Eleanor, a hopeful smile curving across his lips. 

"So…how do you think we did?" he asks.

Before Eleanor can answer, the clock strikes midnight, and Janet reappears holding a massive pitcher and four margarita glasses, as Jason and Tahani burst through Eleanor's front door.


	5. Part Five

**• • •**

**Part Five**

**• • •**

"You came to me and said that the points system was flawed," says Judge Gen. "A system that has been in place since the dawn of time, and has judged every soul that has ever walked the earth. And I have come to the conclusion…"

The six of them, Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, Jason, Janet, and Michael, all stand together in a circle, clutching each other's hands, waiting on baited breath for the verdict that could make or break humanity.

"I have come to the conclusion that you're _right._ Humans are not fixed at one level of morality. They can _always_ get better. Which means that the points system does not accurately judge how good or bad they are. You _won_. The universe owes you a debt of gratitude for bringing this to my attention," says the Judge, and a collective cheer breaks out across the room, overpowering the disgusted groans from Shawn, Bad Janet, and the rest of the Bad Place demons that had decided to tag along.

"In terms of how we handle this moving forward," Judge Gen presses on. " _Obviously_ , Earth is _cancelled_. Clearly, Earth has become too complicated for the points system to accurately reflect the true value of human behavior. So, all humans on Earth and in the afterlife will be extinguished, and we will start the entire human race over from scratch. Now…where did I put that _human-wiper-outer_ thingy?"

And with that, the fragile hope that had ignited in their hearts just moments before is swiftly extinguished.

**• • •**

"Not in _this_ Janet," the Judge scowls, marbelizing one of several Neutral Janets and moving onto the next one in a long line of rebels playing keep-away with humanity's reboot button.

Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, Jason, Janet, and Michael all turn back to look at one another, the same horrified expression mirrored on all six of their faces.

"So, if we can't change the points themselves, then maybe we can change what we _do_ with the points," Michael suggests hurriedly. "Yeah, we just need a brand new system for judging humans in the afterlife. We can do this, right?"

He aims the question primarily at Eleanor, who answers with a reassuring smile and turns to face Chidi.

"There is literally only one person here who is smart enough and thoughtful enough to save humanity," she says, beaming up at him. "Designing a better afterlife is the ultimate ethical question. Chidi spent his entire _existence_ pondering the biggest questions. He is brilliant and empathetic. All he cares about is how best to treat other people, and he is willing to sacrifice his own happiness in order to do it. I couldn't think of anyone better suited to guide us through this and find the answer."

Chidi stares back at her, equal parts elated by the spirited sincerity of her praise, and terrified at the prospect of the task he's just been asked to undertake.

After a brief moment, he gives a decisive nod, and replies, "Well, here's the thing: this kind of dilemma doesn't just have _one_ answer. There could be 800. There could be zero. Who knows? The journey is the destination, right? So, that being said…let's get to work."

**• • •**

Forty-five minutes into their _maybe an hour_ time limit, and the six of them are nowhere closer to mapping out a brand new points system for designating whether humans end up in the Good Place or the Bad Place once they arrive in the afterlife. Time ticks past them in a blur of heated arguments splitting hairs over which actions qualify as innately _good_ , and how many points should be given or docked based on good intentions vs. unintended consequences. 

Chidi jumps as yet another marbelized Janet hits the floor with a resounding _thwack_ , just inches away from where he stands, as the Judge rifles through their voids, bringing them all closer and closer to the _literal_ end of the world. He glances around at his closest friends, red in the face as they trifle over which brand of _water_ a person could drink that's ethically sourced enough to grant them a sufficient amounts of points to just _barely_ make it into heaven, and avoid being tortured for all eternity. 

And that's when it hits him: how utterly and completely _pointless_ the points system actually is. 

It's just numbers in a system that simply _cannot_ accurately measure goodness. What's the _point_ of having a points system that doesn't measure a person's intent or willingness to try and do better? 

You can't just separate people into black and white, cut and dry categories of good and bad. It's much more complicated than that. You need all of those little details. You need context. You need to know their intentions, their motives, their reasoning. You need proof that they are willing to learn and willing to change. 

Turns out, life isn't a puzzle that can just be solved one time and it's done. You wake up every day, and you solve it again. You keep going. You keep moving forward. You keep learning, and growing, and changing. 

_Everyone_ is capable of change. Everyone is capable of becoming better than they were the day before. Even Bad Place demons. Even Good Place angels.

A collective pearl-clutching _gasp_ issues from the committee of Good Place angels, watching the mayhem unfold from their place in the pews with mingled expressions of sympathy and polite interest, and _that's_ when Chidi realizes that the entire room has fallen silent and he's been saying all of this aloud. 

For what it's worth, he's never seen Eleanor or Michael look so simultaneously shocked and proud of him, and it's enough to strengthen his resolve, even as every inch of his skin burns with embarrassment.

"I…look, I'm sorry," he says, taking a tentative step forward and addressing the room at large. "But think about it. Do the Good Place angels ever actually _help_ anyone? All I have ever seen them do is get caught up in an endless cycle of strongly worded letters, memorandums, minor mistakes, grand apologies, and resignations. When it comes to making actual decisions, they are even _worse_ than I am. The only difference is, they do it all with a smile, genuinely convinced that they're helping."

Shocked to their core, the Good Place committee breaks out into a chorus of hushed murmuring, assuring one another of all the good deeds they've done over the millennia, followed by gentle shushing, followed by a series of apologies for having shushed each other, followed by even _more_ apologies for having interrupted Chidi with all of their apologizing and shushing. Shawn, looking thoroughly amused at the chaos Chidi's candor seems to have incited, starts to giggle maniacally.

"Don't even get me _started_ on the Bad Place demons," Chidi chides, earning a sarcastic eye roll from Shawn as he huffs, crosses his arms over his chest, and shuffles down into his seat, sticking his tongue out and fixing Chidi with a childish scowl. 

"The point is, pobody's nerf— sorry, I mean, _nobody's perfect_ ," Chidi sighs, casually slipping into lecture mode as he strolls the perimeter of the room, like he's back teaching in front of a class of college students, instead of monologuing to a rowdy group of immortal beings who could erase him from existence with a simple snap of their fingers.

"Everyone is capable of change," Chidi reasons. "And I think that everyone deserves the chance to do just that. After all, what _good_ does it do, sending people to the Good Place or the Bad Place, based on a total number of points they were assigned for their actions back on Earth? Why are the Good Place and the bad Place our only two options? When it really comes down to it, what point and _purpose_ do either of them actually serve?"

"If you go to the Good Place, you're basically handed paradise on a silver platter," Chidi says. "And sure, that's great and all, but where's the _motivation_ to try to become an even _better_ person? If you end up in the Good Place, then you're probably under the impression that you're already perfect just as you are, that there's no room for growth, no need to _try_. If you go to the Bad Place, then all you're doing is getting tortured, and all _that_ does is punish people for mistakes they probably didn't even realize they were making, reinforcing all of those flaws and bad habits they picked up back on Earth…or worse still, creating new ones."

Every member of the Good Place committee shudders in horror, while Shawn guffaws with glee and high-fives one of his fellow Bad Place demons. Chidi pointedly ignores him, and speaks even louder over the interruption.

"The point is, what we _currently_ have in place is a system that functions as a means to an end, ultimately culminating in either praising or punishing people based on a total number of points they got for doing what someone _else_ decided were inherently _good_ or _bad_ things. What we _need_ is a system that focuses instead on rehabilitation, and allows people the chance to change for the _better_. Why torture people for being _bad_ , when you could expend that time and energy helping them to change?"

To Chidi's surprise, Shawn arches an eyebrow, a look of genuine intrigue flashing across his eyes, before he catches sight of Chidi's encouraging smile, shakes his head, and scoffs. With a disheartened sigh, Chidi turns back to address the crowd.

"Look, I know what you're thinking. That's _a lot_ of work," he admits. "And you're right, it _is_. But it's _worth_ it, and the four of us from the original experiment are _proof_. Look at how many lives Eleanor, Tahani, and Jason affected when we got sent back to Earth."

"Eleanor helped her mother, Donna, who in turn helped her stepdaughter, Patricia. Tahani helped her sister, Kamilah, who successfully created a scholarship in Tahani's name that sent 213 women to college. After Jason helped his best friend, Pillboi dedicated himself to caring for the elderly. Their love, encouragement, and emotional support paved the way for positive change, which rippled out and set off a chain reaction," Chidi says, a surge of pride blossoming inside his chest as he locks eyes with each of his fellow cockroaches in turn.

"If there's anything I've learned from my time in the afterlife, it's that being a good person and helping other people is _infectious_. You help one person, and they'll carry on what they've learned and help someone else in return," Chidi says, a brilliant smile lighting up his every feature. "And isn't that what we should be striving for? An afterlife _filled_ with well-intentioned people who genuinely try their best to learn and grow and change, who actively and willingly help one another for the sake of kindness and compassion? Isn't that _better_ than assigning meaningless point values to actions and judging people without any kind of context for intent of good will?"

Chidi pauses, patiently waiting for the quell of whispered musings, until finally, a hushed silence falls over the crowd. He opens his mouth, and then promptly closes it, puzzling over how best to pose his conclusion. With shaking hands, Chidi turns on his heel and addresses the Judge directly this time, whose amused smirk and arched eyebrow does very little to calm his nerves. Still, he persists.

"The points system is not only _flawed_ , it is _useless._ I suggest we do away with it altogether, disestablish the stark divide of the Good Place and the Bad Place, and build an all-inclusive afterlife that focuses on rehabilitation. It's what we _owe_ to each other," he says, fighting to remain composed as startled gasps and cries of outrage erupt all around him.

For a moment that spans an eternity, the Judge simply stares at him, and then a radiant smile curls across her lips.

**• • •**

Eleanor and Chidi stand together in their brand new headquarters, peering through twin reciprocal port windows set into the handsome oak double doors that connect the office to the lobby, curious about the status of their very first resident. Just outside the building, Michael and Janet await, ready to take the newcomer on a tour of the neighborhood, and welcome them to their brand new forever home.

Across the way, Tahani strolls through a magnificent floral garden, her smile as radiant as the sun that shines overhead, while Jason tucks into a mountain of chocolate sauce drizzled overtop of his massive ice cream sundae (absolutely _delighted_ to discover that all the frozen yogurt shops had been replaced with seashore style ice cream parlors) both ready to jump in and offer help if need be.

After the Judge had officially abolished the old points system, the boundaries dividing the Good Place and the Bad Place were dissolved, merging two polar opposites into one all-inclusive afterlife. The newly-formed team of Janets was then assigned the detail of constructing a series of interconnecting neighborhoods all throughout the boundless landscape of the afterlife realm.

Michael, commended for sparking change in an entire crowd of Bad Place demons with his heartfelt speech, as well as a change of heart in a former Bad Place Janet, was tasked with the rehabilitation of his own kind, for after all, if _he_ could forge a path to redemption, so could the rest of them.

Before the Judge could even ask, Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, and Jason had all stepped forward and volunteered to dedicate the remainder of their existence to being guides for each new person welcomed into the afterlife, insisting that there was nothing they would rather do more than help in any way they can. The one thing they asked for in return was that they all got to stay together, living side by side in the same neighborhood.

It's a daunting task for four humans to undertake all at once, but, over time, they're confident that the more people they help, the more people they inspire and incite change for the better, the bigger their team will grow.

Out in the lobby, under a magnificent banner that simply says _Welcome!_ in bold, lime green lettering, the newest resident of the neighborhood begins to wake up. Eleanor flashes Chidi a brilliant smile that's equal parts nervous and excited, which he returns in kind, before grasping the handles of the grand double doors, and stepping out into the corridor.

"Hi, Doug Forcett," she says with a friendly smile. "I'm Eleanor, and this is Chidi. Welcome to the afterlife."


End file.
